


Wraith

by Krizrin



Category: Warcraft III, World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:55:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28156434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krizrin/pseuds/Krizrin
Summary: On the terrible constancy of loss.
Relationships: Jaina Proudmoore/Arthas Menethil
Kudos: 10





	Wraith

_Jaina_ …

It might have been the wind, this voice, whispering through the midnight-cloaked stillness beyond the window. The fire crackled, settling towards the inevitability of ash.

_Miss_ _you_ … came a sighing voice, leaning in from memory.

The mage stirred, uneasy in her sleep, held by dreams of laughter, of warm embraces, and tender kisses. Tears twinkled in the dying firelight, momentary jewels; they slipped away, lost, into the fading brightness of her hair.

_Jaina… beloved…_

A hand touched her, in teasing familiarity, a caress of frost sliding curves of quivering skin; and Jaina gasped—aching, willing prisoner of an anguished, secret longing.

Shadows crowded close, whispers of desire. It was but an errant wind, free to speak in this void where once there was the heat of life and cherished flesh. She shivered beneath her coverlet, pressing cold hands to a face that now mirrored all her trials. Every heartache's burden was etched there—in time's unraveling lines, in the bitter tracks of unfelt tears—as ice crystals shape their runes across a chill-clouded pane, reflecting only darkness.

_Frozen_ … the wind mourned… _restless and alone…_

Subtle dream darkened into nightmare's snare—offering now a grim phantom upon the ice, hollowed of life and lost in darkness.

A sword, a crown, a broken promise.

An image. _Of him._ Silenced in sacrifice to the hungry ice.

_Abandoned… lost… betrayed…_ said the wind, a haunting voice, soft murmurs of winter sleep and sleet. She could feel the world roll in its massive ease, a slow turning towards oblivion's empty, rocking cradle.

_So lonely_ … Chilled lips pressed her feverish brow. _No Light, no love, no peace…_

She cried out softly in her sleep, a hurting whisper, "Too late, too late to save you now…"

The wraith leaned back into its shadow. _Love you still_ … it murmured.

"Leave me,” the dreaming woman wept, unaware, “ _free_ me _…"_

_Forgive me, Jaina… please..._

"Please," sleeping lips echoed, "…let me _go_ …"

The wind wavered; the shadow rippled, restless to be gone, as dawn slipped in between the worlds of light and dark. In the cooling grate, coals winked out one by one; and Night breathed, _Come away, come away…_

No wraith can weep. _Goodbye…_

The mage awoke, her tears of weary sorrow silvered by the drape of dawn.

_"Arthas?"_

And in the space between his name and the silence that answered, the sun peeked over the curve of the world to rest a ribbon of newborn light upon her pillow.

Fragile as memory, it was golden.

And then it was gone.


End file.
